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Losing It

Losing It Aug 4 2025 It keeps you present. Defines my soul. Yet fragile, bent. Belongs to me. Shone socially. Aging seas. One morning stormy. Next warmly day lit Not for me. Change leaves you behind. Careless words don’t lie Simply grind me, Last one dies
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Written by
barrie-t-whittaker
Published
Aug 4, 2025
Lines·Words
24·46
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